The Legend of Chrono: The Final Frontier Is Magic
by Archeon Zephyr
Summary: It's labeled LoZ:OoT crossed with MLP:FIM, but it's also crossed with Star Trek: Voyager and Chrono Trigger. Dalton is back and he's causing trouble in Hyrule, drawing Voyager and Equestria into the fight. -ON HIATUS, SORRY-
1. Prologue

~ Prologue ~

Night.

The entity knew, instinctively, where it dwelt now, night had spread over the world. Pleasure flickered throughout its being. The entity enjoyed the night. Recently, it had managed to prevent the rise of the sun and almost plunged this world into endless, beautiful, glorious night.

Almost.

The light had defeated it. Light, brilliant and terrible, had cut through the entity, severing it from its host. The entity had nearly been destroyed; would have been, if not for the blessed darkness into which it had escaped. Contempt filled the entity. The host had become weak. She had been greedy and jealous when the entity came upon her in the beginning and it had made her strong. A servant of that horrible light, afraid to lose its power to them, had locked them away, for a time. But time meant nothing to the entity, and nothing to the entity's host. They were as strong as they had ever been when they had escaped that prison, aided by the stars themselves. But the light defeated it, defeated them, tearing them apart. And in her weakness, the host turned her back on the power of the entity and the beauty of darkness.

The entity's power was broken. It sailed away and sailed still, hiding in the light of day and regaining its strength in the dark of the night. It drifted over mountains, over plains, through forests and still it could find no one in which to house its strength. No one here was so fully absorbed in themselves as to want harm to come to others. These people were the only ones the entity was interested in. These were the ones to which the entity wished to join. And none of them were here! Not one being in this wide land sought the chaos and darkness in which the entity thrived.

But perhaps there was one in another land.

It drifted higher until was weaving through the clouds, then higher still. It watched day turned to night around it as it rose into the stars. Here, the light was less harsh. True, it was brighter, but there were no clouds or trees or land to reflect it. However, there were no other beings here; not a single one. The entity drifted in this darkness, past the sphere of piercing light until it found land beneath it again.

Something was different about this land. It was certainly not the place from before. This land was broken; its magic in shambles. The beings who walked upon it were confused, but hopeful. Trying to understand. The entity searched among them for a possible host. Out of disasters rose anger, despair, fear. It could use those.

The entity searched and searched, but it could find nothing. Rage stirred within it. Those things always came with disasters! Why were these people so different? It could feel flickers of those things, but no malice, no desire for one to harm another. What could have happened to these people to devastate them so, yet not destroy their spirits? It searched deeper, into the fabric of the land itself -

and paused.

The entity didn't care about time, but knew what it was and understood its passing. Time moved into one direction like water in a river. So it was in all places and lands the entity had touched.

Not so here.

Here, time was rippled. Not shattered, like the land. But altered, distorted. As if something had moved against time's flow and back again. The entity, curious, followed these ripples to see where they led. The strongest ones led to strange energies buried below the land. But one was weaker than the others, like an echo or a passing image. The entity concentrated on this one, following it across this broken land until it finally stopped at the source of the ripple. The source was not another concentration of the strange energy, but a being of this land. Pleasure suddenly filled the entity.

This being was a perfect host.


	2. Dalton

**Archeon Zephyr Presents:**

_A Mega-Crossover spanning four completely unrelated fandoms, brought together just because I could. A tale of adventuring heroes, daring rescues, fantastic battles, light-hearted humor and repeated instances of 'boy, I never thought I'd write that.' _

_I had some trouble picking a title for this story, as well as for all the chapters. So just for fun, I'm going to include the goofy versions along with the real ones. My original title was going to be:_

**Heroes, Princesses, Astronauts and Time-Travellers**

_But since this is mash-up of different worlds, I thought I should mash up the titles too. So I called it:_

**The Legend of Chrono: The Final Frontier Is Magic**

~Ch.1 – Dalton~

Or:

_Dalton, You Idiot._

The kingdom that was once Zeal spread wide below the foothills of the mountains.

No.

Zeal was at the bottom of the ocean, alone with the ruins of the Ocean Palace. This country, for want of a better word, once stood below the breathtaking continent of Zeal, which had once floated above the clouds. Magic, augmented by the power of Lavos, kept it aloft; a testament to the power of Zeal and it's mastery of magic.

All of it was destroyed. Everything had changed and everything about that made Dalton sick to his stomach. He sat high on a cliff, overlooking the Last Village. Below him, Earthbound and Enlightened Ones mingled and talked as if they had known each other for their entire lives. No distinctions of unfathomable power separated them.

It was disgusting.

Earthbound Ones had no right to talk to the Enlightened like they were equals. They didn't have the right to talk to those who had mastered the mysteries of the universe, the power of the being sleeping in the center of the planet. Dalton huffed.

It was all the fault of those rotten meddlers. Those stupid kids had stumbled through some kind of time gate with the ridiculous notion that Lavos was the source of all their problems. Everything had been going right. Those nay-saying gurus had been silenced, he had the Queen eating out of his hand and the prophet had warned them all that those kids were trouble, but did he listen? No, and look where it had gotten him! Stuck on a continent with these touchy-feely morons, with his beautiful Blackbird in pieces, destroyed by the very weapons he'd personally installed on the Areo-Dalton Imperial, which he'd also lost to those stupid time travelers!

If he were in charge, Dalton would put things right again. There wasn't anything he could do to restore Zeal to its former glory, but maybe he could establish the old order here. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. If he was the king of this place, there would be no queen breathing down his neck, no whining daughter telling him what he should and shouldn't do. Those time travelers had thwarted his first attempt to rule this place, but they weren't here now, were they?

It was a brilliant idea! He would make the Earthbound Ones serve the Enlightened while they worked to regain their original power. Well, the Enlightened Ones didn't need as much power as they had. No telling who might get greedy and try and knock him out of power. The best thing to do was show them who was in charge right from the start. He'd establish his place with an iron fist. Any rebellions would be immediately quashed. But first, he needed to take charge. He was going to be king of the Last Village and its people and no one was going to stop him!

He jumped up, ready to begin laying down the law, when he suddenly remembered that his power had been broken along with the Mammon Machine. Every last drop of magic had been drained out of him, along with any chance of taking his rightful place as king. It wasn't fair. It should be him running this place, not those do-nothing elders. What did they know, anyway? If only the Mammon Machine hadn't been destroyed! Those stupid time travelers had ruined it – it wasn't fair! He was the one to rule these people and teach them their proper places and he needed power to do it – it wasn't fair that the stole that chance from him!

"It's not fair!" he shouted, not caring if anyone heard him.

_Dalton..._

He whirled around. "Who's calling me?"

_Dalton..._

"What do you want?"

_I know it's not fair. You should be king, maintaining the old order, putting these people in their places. _

"Yes, I should. But why should you care, whoever you are?"

_In your memories, I can see the former glory of this place. It is powerful, beautiful. It deserves to be restored. And you should do it. _

"Of course I should. But I need my magic to bring Zeal back. My chance to rule was stolen from me! It's not fair!"

A glittering purple mist glided around him, filling his vision, caressing his face.

_I know how to restore it._

Dalton felt his insides leap with excitement. "You do? How?"

The mist enveloped him, coating the world in a purple haze. It felt like velvet against his skin.

_I will give you the means restore your magic. I will protect you and show you how to fight your enemies. I am the chance you deserve, Dalton. Join with me and take your place as the true king._

It was in his mouth, his nose, his throat now; moving deeper until he was breathing the mist instead of air. The velvet against his skin drew tight.

_Say yes and nothing will stop you._

"Yes, I agree. Give me my chance and let no one stand in my way!"

The mist sank into his flesh until it was coating his bones and finally, Dalton felt a flicker of his old strength return. He laughed aloud and ran for the cave that held the sealed Gate.


	3. Schemes and Delusions

~Ch.2 – Schemes and Delusions~

Or:

_And He Didn't Even Say He Was Sorry_

Gaspar gazed out into the haze of time itself. He smiled. Those kids had done it. History might have been muddied, but at least civilization was no long doomed to end in the 2300's. The power of Lavos had vanished and the monster himself had disappeared from history. Best of all, the End of Time was peaceful again. It wasn't the same as his home in Zeal, but someone had to keep an eye on time as the planet healed itself. Besides, he knew that once history settled down and the Gates closed at last, he would no longer be needed here and be sent home. That was worth thinking about. He wondered how much real time had passed since –

A shimmering sound caught Gaspar's attention. Who could possibly using the Gates now? He moved into the far courtyard to investigate.

One of the pillars shone with brilliant intensity and within stood a silhouetted figure. Gaspar stepped even closer.

"Who are you?" said the Guru.

"Gaspar, my friend, don't you recognize me?"

The figure stepped out of the light and Gaspar felt the blood drain from his face.

"Dalton, you old fool! What are you doing here?" the Guru said. "How did you open the Gate?"

The last time Gaspar had seen him, Dalton was arrogant, obnoxious and dangerous. Nothing seemed to have changed, except for a strange mist that clung to him like a cloak.

"It was an amazing, fantastic feat that couldn't have been done by anyone but myself," Dalton said. "And now, I've come to claim what I deserve – total domination over what was once the Kingdom of Zeal and all the power to back it."

"You aren't going to find it here," said Gaspar.

"I know." Dalton backhanded Gaspar hard enough to throw him across the courtyard. He slammed into the far side and sank to the ground, stunned and senseless. The old fool had never had that kind of strength before.

"Can't have you mucking up my plans, you know," said Dalton, stepping into a different pillar of light. " Goodbye, old friend. The next time you see me, I'll be the king."

Dalton's laughter rang in Gaspar's ears as the pillar flashed with light. The only thought in Gaspar's mind before he slipped into unconsciousness was that he had to warn somebody.

Dalton dusted himself off at the base of the cliff and stood up. He sneered at the Gate high over his head. There should be a warning that the Prehistory Gate didn't open over solid ground. No matter; he was here now and he had a job to do. He stood to get his bearings, not quite believing how humid it was.

_What next, Great King?_ The entity asked him.

"There should be a village nearby," said Dalton. "They have the Dreamstone I need. We built the Mammon Machine out of it to draw power from Lavos. If I could get my hands on it, I could draw power out of the planet itself."

_I will find the village._ A tendril of mist peeled away and disappeared into the jungle. Minutes later, it returned, diving into him.

_Move south, then northeast. The village is beyond the river. _

Dalton grinned to himself. The Dreamstone was as good as his.

After spending all day trekking through the humid, sweltering jungle, Dalton finally spotted the river. He slapped a giant floppy leaf out of his way and stepped out into the light. The first spell he'd restore once he got hold of the Dreamstone was his teleportation spell and save himself another awful trip through the jungle. He'd lost nearly an hour trying to pull himself out of the mud pit he fell into, to say nothing of the beasts that attacked him. He went to flick his long, elegant mane of blond back over his shoulder and grimaced when he remembered that he had cut most of it off to escape a crazed dinosaur. Obviously, the next thing he would do when he regained his magic was grow it all back. In the meantime, he hoped that dactyl choked on his hair.

The village came into view and Dalton crouched near a rock to observe it. There were twenty, maybe twenty five villagers shuffling around, going about their primitive business. There was no point in negotiations. These people were too stupid to understand what he wanted anyway. It would be easier to take out the lot of them and sort through their belongings later. But how to do it?

_If I may suggest something, Great King, _the mist whispered in his mind.

"Suggest what?"

_Strike when you are strong, Great King. I can cloak you in the dark of the night and you can move without being seen._

Actually, that was a good idea. He had dispatched Gaspar with one blow, but he was a feeble old man, and there had only been one of him. These prehistoric villagers numbered no more than a few dozen, but they fought dinosaurs with their bare hands every day. They could probably tear him apart as he was now, much as that thought annoyed him. He settled against the rock and waited for sunset.

Night came at last, and the mist of the entity swirled around him, making him fade into the shadows. His feet made no noise as he moved across the ground. Fighting to keep a triumphant chuckle from bursting out, Dalton slipped into the nearest hut. He could almost feel his old strength coursing through his body.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Old meat, rancid sweat, and various animal scents rolled over him, making him gag. He flinched and very nearly ran back outside.

_Get a hold of yourself, Dalton! _he thought. Y_ou're going to be king! Are you really going to let the smell of these prehistoric chimps stop you?_

No, he certainly was not. Instead, he breathed through his mouth and made his way deeper into the hut. Its inhabitants were sprawled across the floor, wearing and lying on top of filthy animal skins. Their own skin was caked with dirt and their hair was matted into ropes. How did these people live like this? This was supposedly the chief's hut, but it was practically a temple to squalor and filth.

Near the far edge of the hut where what appeared to be belongings were kept, a young man and woman slept hand in hand. Judging by the ring on her finger, she was either in charge or engaged. Or both. He paused for half a moment, wondering why she seemed so familiar. No matter. He continued on until he was standing in front of the sacks by the back wall and began rifling through them. He pulled open sack after sack, making perhaps more noise than was wise and at least twice, he froze after hearing someone mumble in their sleep. So far, nothing he found was any good. Just dried plants, animal bones, teeth, claws, scales – all useless.

He stood to leave for another hut, when he noticed something weird about the grass mat next to him. Curious, he flicked it aside and, seeing what was underneath, he grinned. Below the mat lay a shallow hole filled with Dreamstone shards. He grabbed one of the skin bags and loaded every last piece into it, fighting not to cackle in victory. When he had finished, the bag wouldn't close around the stones, but it didn't matter. He had more than enough and he stood to leave. It wasn't easy making his way back through the tangle of limbs and bodies, but he was managing well enough.

As good as he had been, not even Dalton could stay lucky forever and he tripped over a man just before he reached the door of the hut, spilling shards everywhere. The man grunted and sat up.

"Who you, one-eye?" he said, speaking that broken mess the prehistoric people called a language. The man saw the mess on the floor and glared at Dalton.

"Why you take red rock? Red rock is chief's!" he said. Others in the hut sat up at the sound of his voice.

"Who shout? What happen?" they asked. Dalton grabbed as many shards as he could and bolted for the door, but the man he had tripped over tackled him around the knees.

"Ayla!" the man shouted. "Thief take red rocks!"

At the other end of the hut, the woman with the ring sat up blinking, then jumped to her feet when she realized what was happening.

"Dalton!" she shouted. "Why you come here? You not wanted!"

With a terrible sinking feeling, Dalton suddenly realized where he recognized this woman from. She had defeated his finest monster with nothing but her bare hands. Wasting no time, he worked one of his legs free, then kicked the man in the face and tore outside.

"Stop Dalton!" he heard Ayla bellow from inside the hut. He ran even faster, unable to believe he hadn't thought to bring a conventional weapon. He'd relied too long on his magic and now was defenseless without it.

"Can't you hide me?" he said to the mist.

_They know how to find you now. You must escape them before you can hide again. _

The only chance of escape lay in the jungle across the river, but judging by the shouts of the villagers, they would catch him before he could cross the bridge.

"Ugo hate thieves!" shouted the man Dalton had kicked, now sporting a bloody nose. "Ugo break thief's arms!"

Dalton poured on speed, but he was wearing armor and carrying a bag of rocks. The villagers were gaining. Ugo was practically on top of him.

_You have the Dreamstone, oh King. Use it to draw the energy out of the one behind you. _

That could work. He had never thought about using Dreamstone like that, but it made a kind of sense. They had used it to draw the life force out of the planet; why not draw it out of a person? He pulled out a shard just as Ugo grabbed him from behind. Dalton jammed the shard into Ugo's arm and focused his mind. Ugo shouted with pain, but let out a gasp like a drowning man as his strength slipped away. He fell to the ground without another sound. Dalton, feeling better than he had in weeks, yanked the shard back out and kept running.

"Ugo!" shouted another man, skidding to a halt next to him. "Ugo, talk! What happen?" Kino shook Ugo by the shoulders, but nothing happened.

"Kino, what wrong?" said Ayla.

"Ugo hurt! Ugo not wake up!"

Ayla ground her teeth. "Ayla make Dalton sorry."

She turned to face Kino. "Kino guard village, take care Ugo. Ayla find Dalton, get rocks back. Ayla punish Dalton!" She took off at a run.

In the jungle, Dalton was hidden by the mist again. He knelt on the ground, focusing his mind into the shard he had stuck in the ground, trying to activate it. There had to be some energy left in the planet for him to use, anything to keep the villagers from catching up to him.

"Nothing!" he grumbled. "There's nothing to be had! All the extra energy died with Lavos and I can't take what's here or I won't have a planet left to rule!"

_Then follow me, Oh King, and I will show you where there is life in even more abundance than this dead world._

The mist led him back up the cliff and toward the Gate. He skidded to a halt as he approached it.

"We won't find any more energy at the End of Time," he said.

_The End of Time is only the first step in the journey. Come, Oh King. _

Ayla reached the edge of the cliff just as the Gate closed. She staggered to a stop and snarled in frustration. She knew from experience that the Gates didn't open without the thing Lucca made, so how did Dalton open it? Magic? Other things? And why did he need the rocks? What good were they?

As she thought it, a glint in the dirt caught her eye. She reached for it and found it was a shard of the red rock. The rock was special, she knew. Not just because it was rare and stood for power, but it was special to Chrono too. He had called it 'Dreaming-stone' or something. He had tried to explain it to her, but so many things he had said didn't make sense to her. He said they found the first Gate because Marle was wearing a necklace made of the red rock and he said the important weapon the frog-man carried was made of it too. Apparently, the red rock was important to everyone. But why did Dalton need so much?

Wait. If they had found the first Gate with some red stone and Dalton opened the Gate without the Gate-opener-thing that Lucca made, maybe Dalton needed some to open more Gates. But how did he open the Gate to her time without any red rocks?

Ayla scratched her head. All this thinking was getting complicated. She looked at the shard again. If red rocks could open Gates, maybe she could use the piece she had to go after Dalton. That sounded like a good idea, so she held the piece out in front of her and jumped off the cliff. The rock in her hand began to glow and the air in front of her rippled unsteadily. It didn't seem as bright as Gates usually were, but open it did and she fell in. Moments later, she found herself in the courtyard surrounded by pillars of light. She remembered this place. This was where her and the others had come when they had to go to different times. Dalton had to be here. She turned to search for him when she spotted a figure crumpled against the edge of the courtyard.

"Old man!" she yelled, running over. "Old man hurt! Wake up, old man!"

The old man stirred and looked at her, his eyes clouded with pain.

"The life spring," he croaked. "Bring the water..."

The strong-water! Ayla knew what he was talking about and went to get some, but found she had no way to bring it to him.

"Ayla no can carry water, old man," she said. Then she had an idea. "But Ayla carry old man to water!"

She lifted him carefully – he wasn't that heavy – and moved him into the main courtyard. Laying him down gently next to the spring, she scooped a single handful into his mouth. He groaned, then sat up, looking much better.

"Old man okay?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," he said. He frowned when he realized who he was talking to. "Ayla? How did you get here?"

"Dalton take red rock, so Ayla chase. Use red rock to open Gate." She showed it to him, then looked around. "Dalton here?"

"No, he knocked me out and left. I think I heard someone come back earlier, but I don't remember hearing them leave. The next thing I remember is you helping me."

He stood up and stepped back over to the lamp post. Ayla watched as he concentrated on something in the distance she couldn't see. He watched for a long time, his frown growing deeper.

"This is bad," he said at last.

"What bad? Dalton make plenty trouble – now make more?"

"No, he's gone."

She looked over the fence circling the courtyard. "No can see past fence? Plenty big space. Maybe he fall."

The old man shook his head. "No. I can see all of history from here – from the beginning of our world to the end. Dalton has disappeared completely."

"Dead?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"If he was dead, I would be able to see when he died. But he's vanished from the history of our world."

"Where he go?"

"I wish I knew. I can't even tell when he left."

Ayla chewed on her lower lip. "Ayla not give up. Ayla good tracker; search history, not give up until find Dalton."

The old man didn't seem to be listening. "Someone came through one of the Gates, but I didn't hear them leave. If Dalton left from the End of Time..."

She picked up on that comment. "Dalton here before? Ayla find."

"How?"

She bent down on all fours and began sniffing the ground. The old man couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You can _smell _him?"

"Dalton have strong smell. Ah!" She tracked something across the courtyard to the edge of the dock where the Epoch had sat.

"Smell Dalton here. Maybe fall off."

"I don't think so. He's not stupid. Well, not stupid enough to fall off the edge of the dock."

Ayla continued checking around, trying to understand. She drew out her rock and yelped in surprise.

"Old man! Red rock shine here, like near Gate!"

She was right. The rock was shimmering, and so was the air below the dock.

"How strange," he said, stroking his chin. "I don't recall there being a Gate there."

"Dalton make new Gate?"

"I don't think even he has that kind of power." He sighed. "I was never good at this kind of thing. If only Belthasar was here..."

"Belt-zar?"

"He was very smart. He knew more about time travel than anyone."

"Belt-zar smart man – we find him!"

The old man shook his head. "Belthasar has been dead a long time."

Ayla's face fell. She scratched her head and thought hard. Then her face lit up. "Lucca smart! We ask Lucca!"

The old man felt a smile on his face as well. "Yes! She is very gifted; she'll be able to make some kind of sense out of this. Come with me!"

He led her back to the courtyard with the pillars of light and pointed to one in the center of a row.

"Take this Gate to Lucca's time. Find her or Chrono or Marle and tell them they need to come here quickly."

Ayla grinned. "Old man not worry! Ayla fast, find friends very fast."

She held the rock out and disappeared in a flash of light. Gaspar watched as she faded into the mists of time. "Good luck."


	4. Taking Control

~Ch.3 – Taking Control ~

Or:

_Large And In Charge_

The midday sun shone over Lake Hylia, making the water's surface sparkle. Link, Hero of Time, Savior of Hyrule, and Aspiring Fishing Legend, sat at the water's edge with his trusty fishing rod. He chewed on a grass stem and leaned back on the dirt. It was a rare treat for him to get a break from his duties as General of the Hylian Royal Army and he was determined to soak up every moment of his vacation. His fishing line sat unmoving in the water. He'd had a few uninterested nips from curious fish and one terrific struggle with what turned out to be a Zora prankster, but he hadn't caught anything all day.

Not that it mattered, he thought, smiling contentedly. It was just nice to do nothing for a while. He settled in to take a nap, pulling his cap down over his eyes.

A rustle in the grass nearby caught his attention. He decided to ignore it. Probably just a mouse.

There came a scrape of a boot on dirt and Link sat up. A hulking figure stood over him. The sun was behind the figure, but Link saw it was easily twice his height when he was standing; solid-looking, probably muscular build; posture suggesting the man was ready for a fight. He processed all of this in seconds, then rolled away from the figure to his feet. Good thing too; the figure swung a knife where Link had been sitting.

"What do you want?" Link shouted. His heart jumped to his throat when he finally got a clear look at his opponent. A Lizalfos – quick and clever, but easily overcome. That is, if Link had a weapon to overcome it with.

"Ki! Make it bleed!" it answered, swinging for him again. Sunlight danced along the edge of it's crystal knife and Link dodged it, wishing for his sword. He never traveled anywhere without his weapons – Hyrule was too dangerous, even without Ganon's rule, to travel unarmed. But he had left it tied to his horse's saddle. Desperate, he snatched up his fishing rod and held it ready.

"Ki, ki!" the lizard laughed. "Not a fish!"

It moved for him again, but Link swung the rod hard, whipping the lizard in the face with the flexible end. It screeched in pain and jerked backwards. Link pulled back and swung again, striking it in it's eyes. It screeched again and Link watched as the hook and line wound around the lizard's head, pulled along by the sinker. The hook caught the edge of the lizard's open mouth and Link yanked hard, sinking the barb of the hook into the lizard's cheek. It thrashed in pain, scrabbling at its head.

"Looks like I caught something after all," said Link. The lizard, still thrashing, managed to snap the line. It yanked the hook out of its mouth, but had to jump back to avoid Link's charge. The Hero of Time swung again, this time aiming his strike across the wrist of the lizard, making him drop his knife. He kicked the weapon away, knowing he couldn't grab it without the lizard attacking him first.

The lizard, getting frustrated, took hold of the rod and snapped off the top half, leaving Link holding a useless reel and broken shaft of wood.

"Stick broken!" it cried, jumping toward him.

Link didn't even think, merely lunged forward and shoved the rod ahead of him. It sank into the lizard's unprotected throat and it fell to the ground, gurgling for a moment before fading away.

"Not quite," said Link, brushing himself off. He scooped up the knife and scanned the area. Where there was one Lizalfos, there were usually more. Nothing moved, but that could mean one was merely hiding. He whistled for Epona and felt some of the tension in his shoulders leave when he heard her whinny in the distance. The fact that a Lizalfos had appeared here – above ground in daylight – was a bad sign. He had to report this to Zelda immediately. Normally, the only creatures to worry about were wild things, like wolfos and stalchildren. If intelligent monsters were reappearing – well, he didn't want to think about what that meant for Hyrule. Something was stirring in the shadows of the land.

With a screech, another Lizalfos jumped out of the bushes. It raced for him, but Epona appeared first. Link swung himself into the saddle without even waiting for the horse to slow down. The Lizalfos chased after them, and Link held the knife by the tip of the blade, the way he'd seen Impa hold hers before throwing it. Of course, Link knew nothing about throwing knives properly, and his terrible shot merely bounced off the lizard's head. It shook off the pitiful attack and kept pace with its prey. Link drew his sword and yanked Epona to a halt, kicking the Lizalfos to the ground as he did. Before it could stand back up, he pointed his sword at its throat.

"Who summoned you?" he demanded. "Was it Ganondorf?"

"Magic-man; not evil king," hissed the lizard. "Make world to ashes."

"Where did he come from?"

"Ki! No more answer!"

As if to underscore the Lizalfos, the ground began to rumble. Link looked around for the source and saw dust rising at the western edge of the lake. There, at the treeline, the ground began to erupt, as if something were pushing its way upward.

Stalfos, undead skeletal warriors, began climbing out of the fissure. At first, there were dozens of them, then hundreds. Link watched in horror as what was certainly an army rose out of the ground.

"Din's bones," he swore.

The Lizalfos laughed at the expression on Link's face. Link, annoyed, struck it across the face with the flat of his blade, then tore off down the road. Zelda had to be warned.

_Nearby, in a country adjacent to Hyrule on the easternmost border..._

Princess Celestia, taking a break from her duties, gazed out her window on the lands below. Equestria was a beautiful country, no one could deny that. On a clear day like this, one could see the western mountains all the way from Canterlot. Of course, Canterlot sat on the face of a mountain, so it was nearly possible to see nearly all of Equestria on a clear day like this. Content with it all, Celestia turned from the window back to her desk. She sighed. Well, maybe not all of it. Filling out forms and reviewing treaties was tedious and deadly dull. She read and wrote and reviewed and replied until her eyes began to blur. Paperwork was easily the most aggravating part of daily life in the castle. If she was awake, maybe she could get Luna to come in and lend a hoof in getting all of this completed.

As if in response to her thoughts, Luna came trotting into the throne room. Celestia sat up, happy to see her sister, but Luna seemed agitated.

"What's wrong?" Celestia asked.

"I'm not sure," said Luna, sounding hesitant. "I had a nightmare. It's – it's nothing."

Celestia patted the cushion next to her. "You wouldn't have come in here so fast if it was nothing. Come here."

Luna joined her sister on the dais and sat down. She said nothing at first and Celestia waited. She would speak in her own time.

"It was the Nightmist," Luna blurted at last. Celestia nodded slowly. No wonder Luna hadn't wanted to talk about it. The Nightmist was the name they had given the powerful magical entity that had possessed Luna a thousand years ago, transforming her into Nightmare Moon.

"I didn't think we had seen the last of that thing," said Celestia, sighing.

"No, neither did I, to tell the truth," Luna said. "I can still hear it whispering to me sometimes. It's too weak to posses me again, but it's still there. It wants me back."

"Why haven't you told me any of this?" asked Celestia. "I don't want that thing near you. If I lost you again-"

"You won't," said Luna, cutting her off. "But it's devious. I think it's waiting for me to be selfish again. That was how it-" she broke off and looked away. Celestia laid a hoof on her sister's shoulder.

"Never mind that now. Why did the nightmare upset you?"

"I saw it moving, getting stronger. But it wasn't after me – it was doing something in the east. I don't even know how I know! Maybe I'm still connected to it somehow."

Celestia considered this. "It's possible. It needs investigating certainly, but if the Nightmist is plotting something, we need to act quickly."

Luna nodded. She waited for her sister to call for someone to investigate, but Celestia simply gave Luna a look. She wanted Luna to do it herself. After all, she was a princess too, the look seemed to say.

Luna straightened her back and spoke in a clear voice: "Crossbar! Silver Helm! Come here, please."

Two Pegasus guards flew and landed in the throne room, bowing before the royal sisters.

"Yes, Highness?" said Silver Helm.

"We have a job for you."

_Time passes..._

Deep in the south of Hyrule, past Lake Hylia, old monsters were stirring. All the nightmares that had plagued Hyrule during the Seven Dark Years had returned. But they did not wander aimlessly, causing destruction and chaos wherever they went; these were organized. Stalfos led packs of beasts on attacks, while Lizalfos moved off in groups of two or three. These packs emerged from a short stone building, currently being constructed by Moblins and guarded by Iron Knuckles. A small tower stood on top of the building and every now and again, a Poe would drift in or out of it, relaying troop movements and orders. It wasn't nearly as grand as his section of Zeal Palace, nor did it compare to the Blackbird, but Dalton was pleased with it nonetheless, because it was his. It hadn't taken much to make the monsters obey him, either. The intelligent ones were looking for an excuse to take revenge on the Hylians and those who were too dumb to understand or refused to follow orders, he simply took control of their thoughts with the power of the Nightmist. It wasn't a perfect arrangement, because the controlled ones didn't seem to be able to remember orders for more than a day at a time. He needed a solution to that problem, and soon.

A scraping noise at the door and Dalton beckoned the Stalfos into the room. It approached the desk where he was tracking army movements and knelt.

"Rise and report," said Dalton, cleaning the ink off his hands.

"Hylia belongs to us, O King," rumbled the great skeleton. "Our forces have taken control of all who live there, though we have yet to find the secret entrance to Zora's Domain."

"We'll find it eventually," said Dalton. "What of the western desert?"

"We are still waiting on the latest report."

Dalton frowned. It shouldn't take a Poe more than a day to get a report to him. Or at least, it hadn't so far.

"Very well. You may go."

The Stalfos nodded and left. Dalton leaned back in his chair, gazing contentedly at the banner on the wall. It was blue, with white stars and one golden stripe along the middle of it; blue and stars for the mist, gold for him, his hair and how glorious he would make this kingdom when he ruled it.

The mist sharing his body had been right when it had told him this place was full of life for him to take. He had taken much already, of course, but when he found the monsters sleeping underground, he had a brilliant idea. Why not conquer this land for himself and become the king of two worlds?

He had lost no time in bringing the powerful creatures out of the ground and sending them out to conquer in his name. Well, not quite all of them. He had a platoon of Moblins carving out statues of him to deploy throughout the country, as well as a contingent of Dinalfos making flags and banners for the rest of the army to carry. After all, these people had to know who they were going to be bowing down to.

They had been more than willing, and told him they had done this before. He had asked about that of course and they explained it all: how Ganondorf rose from a leader of a tribe in the west to a powerful sorcerer and then into an unstoppable demi-god, only to be stopped by some fool child with an ancient sword. He was far too powerful to be destroyed and could only be sealed away and there he waited, biding his time until the seal broke at last.

It was an impressive story, Dalton admitted, but he could see where Ganondorf had made mistakes during his reign. Why wait for the hero to attack you when you could be out attacking him? What sense did that make? Destroy the threat before it becomes a threat; that was Dalton's motto. That's what Queen Zeal had done when she sealed the Gurus and that's what Dalton was doing now – taking control of this land before anyone could stop him. He strode over to the window, watching his army going to work. His conquest was going well, but not as quickly as he liked. The inability of controlled creatures to remember their orders was slowing him down, not to mention the resistance of the Hylians themselves. They could fight the monsters, but he needed to destroy that ability. The problem, of course, was that he was the only one using the Dreamstone.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas about all this?" he asked the mist. Lately, it only answered him when it felt like doing so, rather than every time like it had when it had first come upon him.

_Give your minions the means to control each other,_ it said.

Dalton frowned. "What good would that do? I want them working for me, not against." His frown deepened as he thought it over. He certainly did need a different way of commanding the controlled monsters – maybe that was what the mist had meant. But if he could train intelligent ones to control dumber ones and have them all report to him...

No, that wouldn't work. The controlled could only be controlled by him, who used the power of the mist. He looked at the Mace of Might – a short staff topped with the largest shard of the Dreamstone – and felt another idea forming. The Dreamstones were powerful artifacts, not just capable of draining energy, but controlling it as well. He could modify the shards so a user could command a controlled monster. Yes! And he could instruct them to use it as a weapon as well! The Hylians might have stood a chance against one Dreamstone, but hundreds? Never. And, when the land was his, he could collect the shards, filled with their energy... it was a perfect plan!

"You beautiful thing," he crooned to the mist, "You've done it again."

_I exist to serve my king._

But who should he chose? He needed monsters smart enough to control magic and ruthless enough to use the shards without mercy. Dalton jumped up and dashed out the door for the nearest Stalfos.

"You there," he called, spotting one. The Stalfos knelt and stood up again as Dalton approached him.

"What sort of creature could I trust with a powerful weapon?" he said. "I need monsters that can control magic and command the loyalty of others."

"My king has need of the Wizzrobes," said the Stalfos. "You will find them in the east, near the woods of-"

"No, you will find them. Take a squad and bring their leaders to me here."

The Stalfos nodded. "As you say, my king."

It turned on its boot and left, calling for others to join it. Dalton headed back into the fort, going over what needed to be done to make the shards into weapons.

At sunset, the Stalfos returned, followed by several clocked figures. The fine details of their faces were hid deep in the hoods, but anyone who looked at them would call them gaunt old men. Dalton strode out to meet them, carrying a bag of something. The Stalfos kneeled and Dalton dismissed him absentmindedly.

"You there!" he said. "You call yourselves Wizzrobes, don't you?"

"What do you want, usurper?" asked one of them. Dalton felt his anger rise – no one talked to him like that – but kept his temper. He need these creatures to cooperate.

"I can see that you are cunning men of magic, seeking power wherever you can find it."

"What of it?"

"I can give you the power to command troops of monsters. By that same power, you will be able to steal the life energy out of anyone who might oppose you."

He drew a staff out of his bag. The stone on the end glittered in the sunlight and the Wizzrobes stared at him, failing to hid their interest.

"We are listening."

Dalton gave a lopsided smirk. "How'd you like to do a job for me?"


End file.
